


If You Love Me, Let Me Go

by orphan_account



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Dark Past, Drug Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6489673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is definitely an angsty fic. Don't read this in a place where you're not allowed to cry.<br/>---<br/>Jack and Mark were friends; it was as simple as that. Mark never saw Jack as a person who could be unhappy, or have any problems whatsoever. He's just so... perfect.<br/>One Skype call and a visit to Jack's apartment changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Knows Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> !!! READ THIS PART !!!  
>  In case you couldn't tell by the tags, this fic is DARK. If you aren't prepared for that or don't want to read it, don't read this.  
> There are references to self harm, suicide/suicide attempts, mental illness, drug abuse, and rape throughout this fic.  
> Keep that in mind and don't yell my face off.  
> !!! CARRY ON !!!

Jack's POV

* * *

 

The air is so cold. It makes my blood tingle on my skin.

I'm shaking. I can't stain the sheets again. I have to get up. Away.

I push myself to my feet, stumbling. I'm weak, and I can feel it. I go to push my hair back before remembering my hand is also blood-soaked. God, I'm a fucking disgrace. I need to get cleaned up.

Nobody will know. Nobody  _can_ know. Once they know, they start asking questions and shit.

I make my way to the bathroom and glance in the mirror. I'm a fucking mess. Nobody wants to love anyone in this state. Not unless they're the type who loves to fix people; then, once they fix you, they dump you right back to where you were, if not more hurt than before.

I start to get dizzy and hold myself up with the sink. Blood's beginning to drip to the floor. In my thoughts I'd forgotten why I came in here in the first place. I pull a blood-stained washcloth from the cabinet under the sink, where nobody would know to look. I'd done this so many times that the actions kind of fell back into place naturally. I soak it in water and begin to clean myself off.

Holy hell, it burns. But I deserve it, don't I? I did this to myself. 

My hair looks like a fucked up Christmas. I need a shower.

 

 

Mark's POV

* * *

 

It's been hours since I last heard from Jack.

I'd Skyped him, and he told me he'd be right back. Was he crying?

Beginning to grow worried, I tried another call. No answer. It'd been hours since he claimed he would return.

I never stay up this late. It's 3:14 in the morning. I guess I did it for him.

I quickly drive over to his apartment. Upon reaching the right room, I gently knocked on the door. 

"Jack?" No answer.

I test the door to find it's unlocked. Most of the lights are off, and it's eerily dark.

"Jack?" I test again, louder. I carefully maneuver through his apartment; I have to admit that it's a wreck.

Not to mention... the trail leading up to the bathroom. Is that blood?

The light is on. I make my way over and knock.

"Jack. You're scaring me. It's not funny anymore."

The door comes open easily, as I hadn't noticed it was cracked open. I hope I'm not intruding.

 

I find him on the floor, eyes closed, breathing shallowly.


	2. Hold Me

Mark's POV

* * *

 

Who did this to him?

Nobody deserves a pain like this. Whatever drove him to do this. Not a single living soul.

I quickly run to where he's laying and shake him. The sight brings tears to my eyes.

"Jack... You have to wake up. I-"

"Get out of my face, Mark."

I shiver, startled by the sudden thick Irish tone filling the room. I'm surprised he can speak at all. If I were him, I wouldn't even be able to find words.

"Jack, thank fucking God. I came in here thinking you had.. well, I thought you were-"

"Dead. Got it. Don't sweat it. This is nothin' out of the ordinary. Typical Saturday night." He gives a weak smile.

"The hell do you mean? I couldn't even imagine this happening to you. You don't deserve it. I don't-" He lightly slaps me as if to shut me up and I get the message. I gently touch his hair, noticing there are still traces of blood in it.

I pull him up and cradle him in my arms. I never want to let him go. If I let him go, this might happen again. I'm afraid for his life. He's my friend. He's my best friend. He's my...

And that's when I see it.

 

Jack's POV 

* * *

"Jack."

"Eh?" I'm grateful Mark is here. The way he's holding me... I feel so warm. At home. Comfortable. I never want him to let me go.

And that's when he pulls back. He touches my arm. The sudden feeling causes me to jump back.

"God, be careful, sensitive."

"Have you been doing heroin?"

"Somet'in like that, yeah."

"...How long?"

His delayed response makes me nervous. He's gonna hate me. He's gonna fucking hate me, and never hold me like that again. He'll leave me just like the rest of 'em did. 

"It's been a couple years, I guess. I don't re'lly know."

The room goes deathly quiet. I'm waiting for him to get up and leave. Dump me back on the cold floor where he found me. Where I belong. Instead, he holds my face in his hands, searching my eyes for answers I wasn't really sure how to give. He's been crying, and I'm not worth the tears. He begins to stroke my cheek, and I lean into his hand. My face is bruised and it's a bit painful, but just the idea of Mark giving me affection is enough to ignore it. He's worth any pain life could throw at me right now.

"Please stop."

"I haven't done nothin' in a couple months-"

"And you're bound to relapse. I can't have that happening. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve any of this shit. Jack, I care about you."

"Yeah, that's what the last guy said when-" I stop myself cold. He doesn't give a shit.

"When... what?"

"Nothin'. Story for a later time. I mean, if a later time comes." I look down at my cut up body, and his gaze follows mine. God, this guy lookin' me over when I'm in nothing but my boxers.

"A later time will come." I shiver at the words, knowing that's a statement I can't necessarily hold up to.

Things are silent for a few moments; I break the silence with a blunt question. "Why didn't ya just let me die, Mark?"

"How could I?"

"It's not like it's my first time try'n to kill myself."

He freezes, gazing into my eyes again. Trying to fish the reasoning out of me without speaking. "How can you take this so lightly?" he finally asks.

"I never said I take it lightly. Just treading familiar territory."

Mark gently begins to run his fingers over my cuts. God, fresh cuts have a powerful afterburn. It brings tears to my eyes again.

"Oh, Jack. Don't cry. Please. I'm sorry, I can stop-"

"Hold me," I say with a somewhat broken voice. "Please."

He hesitates, then pulls me closer. I nestle my face into his chest and the tears keep coming.

Both of us fall asleep like this against the side of my bathtub.


	3. Won't Let That Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters in one night. I am on a roll! Better do what I can before I hit a writer's block.  
> I hope you're enjoying so far!

Mark's POV

* * *

 

I wake up in Jack's apartment, with him still nestled next to me. I'm confused at first before remembering the night before. He's snoring softly, and I chuckle.

I slide out from under him, leaning him against the wall instead. I immediately get busy with cleaning up his bathroom. It can't be comfortable waking up to a bathroom full of blood.

Well, not like it's comfortable waking up in a bathroom at all.

By the time I'm mostly done, he is awake. Watching me. Taking it all in.

"It's your murder scene and you can't lend a hand?" I wink to let him know I'm not serious.

"Well, I can help-"

"Nope. You're gonna stay right there. I mean, I'm pretty much done anyway." I make quick work of finishing up.

I sit back down next to him for a moment. "Please don't do it again."

Jack raises his eyebrows a bit. "You.. you know I can't say that I won't-"

"Can I stay with you? At least for a bit? You know, live here and keep an eye on you." I immediately regret saying anything. Damn my embarrassment.

He stiffens a bit, but looks at least relatively happy about my request. "I mean, if ye wanna."

After a moment of silence, I gently pull him to his feet, noting where his cuts are and avoiding them. "Now, let's get  _you_ cleaned up." I gesture to the tub. "Get on in there."

Jack blushes a bit but obliges. "Y'know, I was aiming to do this last night, but I kinda just... passed out."

He sits in the tub, shivering as I gently pull off his boxers. Hopefully I don't look as flustered as I feel.

 

Jack's POV

* * *

I am  _naked._ In front of Mark. And he looks completely cool about it. 

He begins to fill the tub. I shudder as the cold water hits my feet before it starts to warm. He takes a washcloth off the side of the tub and warms it in the water.

"You don't gotta do this." I blush as I see myself in this state, with Mark, of all people.

He didn't respond, he just smiled softly, stopped the water, and began to gently pat the bloody spots. I'm a fucking mess, cuts on my arms and thighs. When he begins to clean off my thighs I shiver and try not to think of dirty things. 

By the time he's done with my body, the water is tinted pink. He has a sad look in his eyes as he moves on to my hair, wetting it in preparation.

"What drove you to do it?" His voice pierces the empty air.

"A lot went into it." I close my eyes to keep water out of them.

His silence tells me he wants me to elaborate. He waits expectantly as he grabs my shampoo.

"Let's just say shit's been brutal. For years 'n years." I pause to catch a shaky breath. "I've been cuttin' since I was twelve. Drugs since twenty. Nothin' numbs the pain enough. The pain of these brutal fucking memories."

Mark sighs as he massages shampoo into my hair. "What kind of memories?"

"My dad beatin' me. My last boyfriend..." I trail off for a second to force back my tears. "My last boyfriend didn't take no for an answer. He was a hell of a lot like my dad, and I think that's what drew me to him. My dad hated that I was gay, though. Called me a fag and kicked me to the curb at sixteen. That's when Andrew took me in..."

I glance up at Mark to gauge his reaction. Doesn't care that I dated a guy? Good.

"He was real sweet at first. Said he wanted to try BDSM. I did it cause I loved him, but he didn't really distinguish the line between fun times and rape very well." I bite my lip. "A night full of screaming at him to stop. Screaming the safeword. Fucking bled for weeks. Big scars on me back."

Mark was beginning to slow down a bit, paying more attention to what I was saying than my hair.

"I tried to hide the bruises. Act like all was well. And I ran away. Left the fuckin' country. I can never go back to Ireland after that." I sigh and put my face in my hands. "Not like I'd want to," I finally mumble.

Mark is silent. He was beginning to rinse my hair, barely breaking his gaze at me. "Hey." He rubs my shoulder. "Hey, look at me." I slowly look up.

"Did you relapse? Is that what happened last night?"

"The thoughts kept coming back to me. Of that night. Never screamed so fuckin' loud."

A moment of silence as he finishes rinsing my hair.

"I'm never going to let that happen to you again, you know." He hands me a towel. I quickly rub my hair dry and cover myself as the water drains.

"Nothin' you can do to stop it if he finds me-" I'm stopped my big hands around the back of my neck.

"I'm not going to let that happen to you," he repeats, pressing his forehead to mine.

We stand like this, eyes closed, for a good bit before Mark leaves to make breakfast.


	4. I'm Here For You

Jack's POV

* * *

 A hearty yell comes from the kitchen. "Hope you're into toast and scrambled eggs!"

I smile at the sound of his voice. I'd been sitting in the tub with a towel wrapped around my body, lost in thought. Forgetting how long I'd been sitting there, I decide I'd better get dressed. So I get up and go into my room, grabbing fresh clothes. Once I'm more put together I make my way to the kitchen to watch Mark.

I lean against the doorway, wearing a soft goofy smile. I forgot how much I like watching him work, no matter what type of work it is. He's just so calm and precise in everything he does, and he always has been. Me, I'm mad and erratic, and the change of pace I see in him is comforting. He's bigger than me but also much more graceful, in a way. I can't cook for shit without messing something up, and the way he does it is just so... enticing. Interesting to watch.

I can't be crushing on him. I don't want a repeat of Andrew. I need to crush this in the bottom of my gut, for my own sake, and for his sake. He doesn't need a fucked up addict in his life. I mean, just look at him. He can do so much better. Why does he want anything to do with me? He'll just kick me to the curb. He'll never say-

"All done. And how long have you been watching me, you creep?" Mark smiles and winks. I feel my throat close up and take a deep breath to try to control it.

"C'mon then, let's eat." I can't believe I can find the words. 

I'm interrupted by a gentle push from Mark. I'd forgotten I was blocking the doorway. I turn to hide my blushing as he brings everything to the table.

"You're Irish, so you want some hard liquor with breakfast?"

Don't. He didn't mean it like that. Deep breath, ya fuckwit.

"Nah, but thanks, I don't go into alcoholic mode until at least two thirty." I can't believe I fuckin' said that. Trying to act unfazed, I sit at my plate across from Mark.

He sighs. I hope he isn't hurt by what I said. If he is, he isn't really showing it.

 

Mark's POV

* * *

 An alcoholic, too? How many problems can a kid have? No matter what he insists, there is no way in all hell he can deserve something like this. I'd meant it as a joke...

I play it off with a weak smile. "What do you like to do?"

"Not sure you really want me to answer that."

"Oh, I do." I internally wince at the thought of what he might say.

"Well, I obviously like fuckin' myself up. In a lot of ways, I'm not gonna go into a lot of detail 'bout it. You saw part of it. And I explained more of it earlier this mornin'." He begins to eat. "You don't mind if I don't pray and all that shit, right? I'm not exactly religious."

"Not at all. You do you." My mind begins to race. I forget what I was going to say. All I want to do is protect him. Get him away from this brutal, unforgiving world of hurt that he didn't deserve to get into. Jack keeps talking but at this point I'm lost. Things are getting fuzzy. I try not to show it, because he doesn't deserve this the day after...

"You even listenin' to me, Fischbach?" I snap back to attention, the best I can anyhow. I furrow my brow and feel my head tilting to the side a bit.

"Yep. Finish your breakfast."

He raises an eyebrow but obliges, in complete silence. I guess he picked up that I can't really listen right now. God damn it.

...I wonder what he'd said.

Jack stands and takes care of his plate. I use this as an opportunity to stand up and move to the couch, leaving my food untouched. Not really feeling like eating at the moment and I'll probably end up regretting it later.

He comes back into the room as I feel myself slump over on the couch. Upon seeing him, I try to straighten up a bit as if nothing's wrong, but he catches on fast. Boy, is that guy fast.

Jack walks over (somewhat painfully, due to a body covered in cuts) and sits beside me, leaning his head against my shoulder. "You gonna tell me what's wrong or will I have to force it out of ya?"

"It's a lot to explain." That comes out sharper than I intended. He quickly pulls back at my change in tone, much to my dismay.

"Alright." He looks away.

I wish he could just listen to me. Listen through my thoughts so I wouldn't have to say what's on my mind, because talking is too much work for me right now.

"Anxiety."

Jack looks at me again. "Eh?"

"I'm having an anxiety attack. It's nothing serious, a minor one, but-"

I quickly feel him embracing me. "Did I cause it?"

"Indirectly." I can feel the last words breaking his heart.

He begins to tremble and squeezes me tighter. "You don't deserve this, if you would've gotten the fuck away from me and just left me to-"

"I'm not gonna let you die, Jack." I swallow roughly. "I just got worried about you, and began thinking about how you don't deserve any of this. Quit taking care of me, it's my job to take care of you."

Jack gives me a soft kiss on the cheek, surprising me. I try to ignore it.

"We're here to care for each other." He smiles as he says it. "I'm here for you."

"And I'm here for you."

"You made that clear last night, you doof. Not many would wallow through blood for a friend." He laughs, and I'm relieved to see him smile.

"Yeah..."

Keep fighting for me, Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an awkward way to end a chapter and I absolutely hate the way I worded it.  
> I know these chapters have been pretty short (at least by my standards) but once I start getting into the story they'll get longer.  
> Stick around for more!


	5. You Don't Know Me

Jack's POV

* * *

 

I'm entirely lost in thought. About my feelings. I can't have them sneaking up on me again. Not a second time.

_He's just like Andrew was, Jackaboy. Get your shit together. He's gonna get tired of you, and your constant problems, and your complaining. And he's gonna find your suicide note, with that date written on the top, and he'll want to get out so he doesn't get hurt. Nobody wants that kind of pain in their life. And nobody deserves it except you. You put all this upon yourself._

_You weren't a good son. You weren't a good boyfriend. And you'll never have that opportunity again. You should've just fought through the pain. Stayed with Andrew in Ireland. At least then you wouldn't have been so god damn lonely. And it's all your fault. Sometimes you have to just suck it up and take one for the team. But you're too weak for that, aren't you? You're too weak to just force yourself through the problems, even if that means finding happiness in the end. You're just too self centered to ever find happiness._

_Happiness means sacrifices._

_And you, Jack, you are never willing to sacrifice. Everything is about you. All your feelings and your selfish actions, the way you just push people away and disregard anything they have to say. It's all your fucking fault. Don't drag Mark into this. He doesn't deserve it. You know he doesn't deserve it but you pull him in anyway because you're selfish. And you're lonely. Let him go. He'll be happier without you._

"Jack? You okay? You went really quiet." Mark's voice shakes me out of my thoughts.

"Fine." I smile shakily. 

 

Mark's POV

* * *

 

I can tell Jack isn't okay, but I'm not sure if I want to pry. He seems very lost in thought. 

After a few minutes, I try again. "Are you sure?" I question, as carefully as possible.

Jack gets up quickly and pushes me away. I sit back for a moment, stunned.

"Hey, hey..." I stand up and follow him, lightly brushing my hand on his shoulder.

"Just.. get.." He shoves away from me again weakly. His speech is shaky and he doesn't sound sure of himself at all.

"You don't mean this. I know you don't." I begin to step forward again.

"You're just like the rest of 'em..." He gives a shuddery sigh.

"Jack, you know I'm not." I begin to panic a bit. I don't want him to leave me. "I'm not like your dad, or your old boyfriend. I'm a different person. You don't have to believe me right away but you have to at least give me a chance to prove myself. You can't shut yourself away from everyone forever-"

"I can! And that's my fuckin' plan. Because once you open up, that's when you start getting hurt. I'm not about that bullshit. Why should I believe you?" He gives a hurt, distrusting expression.

My heart aches. I force back tears. "I'm never going to hurt you, Jack. That's the last thing I want to do. I put you before me at any opportunity. You're my best friend and you don't deserve the pain thrown at you." I pause and catch a shaky breath. "I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. But it's rare for anyone to be happy alone. You sure as hell didn't seem happy when I found you last night."

"I was fine. I shoulda just fuckin' died-"

"Don't say that." I'd been trying not to snap and that came off harsher than intended. "Don't you dare fucking say that. Because you need to live. You just have to. Because I need you, and you need me, and we can't fucking live without each other. Don't make me live without you, and don't threaten me with that. It just hurts."

"Well, I'm just selfish, okay?"

"No, you're not. And I can see that. I can see it in you, Jack. You're not as shitty as you think you are."

With that he runs towards me and collapses in my arms, breathy sobs filling the room. I quickly catch him and pull him up, running a hand through his hair. He's shaking and I would give anything to make him stop. This is all my fault.

"You don't know me," he finally says quietly.

"But I want to. And I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the short chapter after promising they'd be longer, I just had to go get my cat put down so i'm feeling depressed and down in the dumps. maybe that's why this chapter is so hectic haha  
> i promise i'll get better and write better!!


	6. How Can I Help You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is gonna be Mark's POV, but there's gonna be one for Jack too, don't you worry your sweet little hearts haha  
> Mark, time to shine!

Mark's POV

* * *

 

"So... how can I help you?" I feel odd asking that question. As if there isn't really a definitive answer.

We had gone out to lunch to further get to know each other, since we would kind of be living together. I guess roomies are supposed to know each other at least a bit, right? I had asked him the same question at lunch and he dodged it, telling me it was for a later time.

Well, right now counts as later.

Jack pauses for a moment before answering. "Follow me." He begins to walk off to his room without skipping a beat. I guess he just assumes I'm going to follow his every beck and call...

...Yeah, I'm going to.

I follow him up to his room and reach the door just as he's turning on the light. It's a bit of a mess, but so is his head right now so it's understandable. He leads me to his closet and opens the door. Then he drops to his knees and pulls a shoebox from a corner. He hands it to me wordlessly, then turns away and continues to stare at the corner of the closet.

Boy, is that thing a ticking time bomb. Blades, knives, a bag of pot, a couple old needles, a few notes, and... a gun. Oddly enough, the notes catch my eye more than anything.

"Can I read these?"

"Depends on the one yer talkin' about."

"Which ones are no touchy?"

Jack stands up and meets my gaze for a moment before taking two of the five notes from my hand. "Knock yourself out, but I'm not gonna sit here while ya do it." He leaves, though I'm not sure where to, taking the two notes with him.

I sit down on the corner of his bed and unfold the note on the top of my handful.

> _Sean,_
> 
> _I'm sorry about pissing your dad off the way I did. You know I didn't mean it, don't you? I could never hurt my Seany-bear. I love him way too much. So, so much. I never wanna let you go._
> 
> _I'll take care of you, I promise! You'll never be alone again. We can spend our lives together, away from your family but in your home country. Sweet, sweet memories can be made. Things you will never want to forget! Happiness is imminent, I assure you, and you'll never feel that shitty feeling of isolation if I can help it._
> 
> _I need you to be happy. Selfishly enough, it's more for me than it is for you. I hate seeing you sad. I hate seeing you cry. I'll do anything to put an end to it because you deserve so much better after the shitty childhood you had._
> 
> _Never change, okay?_
> 
> _Love and kisses!_
> 
> _\- Andrew_  

I wince. Reading these seemingly loving words from Andrew after the horror stories Jack had told me made my heart hurt. I want to kill this man I'd never even met. Is that normal?

Also... Sean? I'll ask him later. I gently refold it, place it to the side and unfold the next. This one seems short and sweet. 

> _Consider yourself dead._
> 
> _You're exiled, disowned, forsaken. Never speak to me again. No sane father wants a faggot for a son._
> 
> _You make me wish I'd never had a son. You've brought nothing but shame to our family name. It's your fault your mother died._
> 
> _Get out of my life. Try to come back, I'll beat your ass._

Well, I'm right about the short part. I feel myself coming close to tears and swallow the feeling before it develops. I begrudgingly unfold the last note, knowing I'll probably be in for a world of hurt. This one seems like it was ripped off of something else.

> _Sean,_
> 
> _Please don't blame yourself for any of this. There's been a lot building up to this. You know your father... he's going to completely break, and nothing will be the same. I just hope to God that he doesn't take any of this out on you._
> 
> _He's in pain, honey. You're going to have to try to understand. Do that for me. Run away if you need to, do anything to keep yourself safe since I can't be there to protect you like I always have been._
> 
> _You're young now. Soon you'll understand what I mean to its fullest extent._
> 
> _I'll be looking down on you for years and years. I love you so much and I couldn't be prouder. You helped me last as long as I did and you were my only reason for existing. Find another person who makes you happy, and become their reason for happiness. You've brought me many smiles and I know you'll bring many more, as long as you keep fighting._
> 
> _Depression and other problems run in our family. I've been seeing the early signs in you. You're going to want to die and everything is going to hurt. But do it for me, and for your future, and to spite your father; keep fighting. You have to. People need you. You might not know them yet, but you will meet them and they will need you._
> 
> _Your existence is necessary._
> 
> _I love you._

The bottom and top of the note are ripped off, but I can only assume it's from his mother. 

Did she commit suicide?

I can feel tears coming. There isn't any stopping them now. Holy hell.

I put the notes to the side and cover my face with my hands. I hope Jack doesn't hear me. I don't want him thinking it's his fault for letting me read everything. I'm glad he did, actually. I know a bit more about him with each day. I can help him more.

I  _have_ to help him more. For him, and his mother.

But how?

 


	7. Never

Jack's POV

* * *

 I can hear Mark crying. He must've read that last one. I put it on the bottom on purpose, as I'd been hoping he wouldn't get to it. I want to go in and comfort him but I'm afraid he doesn't want me to.

He's going to ask me about my mother. I don't want to talk about it. I will if I have to but I'd really rather avoid it. Shit just gets really depressing.

I shuffle the notes I'd kept in my hands. My suicide letter and my note to him. I can't let him read either of them for obvious reasons. I don't want to break his heart or scare him away.

I'm not sure how long I've been sitting on the couch, waiting for Mark to finish reading. I knew he would ask me about my name. I hadn't planned on telling him about that yet. Maybe he'll think I'd been lying to him on purpose for this long.

I hear him get up. Oh, boy. He's gonna hate me. He's gonna leave me.

Mark comes into the room, trying to play off the fact that he'd been crying. He sits down next to me and gently takes my hand.

"There's a lot you haven't been telling me, huh?" He tries to lighten the mood with a joking tone. I'm not really sure I'm in the mood but I try to push through it for him.

I scoot over and lean against him with a low sigh. He lets go of my hand so he can wrap his arm around me. I immediately accept it, pushing as close as I can so I can just listen to his heartbeat. It's comforting. I feel at home with him.

I love Mark. I've known it deep down for a while, but I've been refusing to let the feelings spring up. I feel them now coming up my throat like bile and it burns, it burns to fucking hell because I know if I say anything this happiness is doomed. No matter how badly I want this, he'll be uncomfortable with it. He's straight. I couldn't force my feelings on him like that, it'd be selfish. I might be a selfish person for wanting to kill myself but I'd never subject someone like him to any of this.

I never want to risk him leaving me, if I can help it. He comes first. Always.

"Don't ever change, okay?" His words startle me out of my thoughts.

"Continue bein' miserable as all hell. Got it." I give a cheesy smile.

"Oh, shut up. I mean, if you do change, change for the better. Be happy. I need that."

"Are you gonna leave me once I'm fixed?" There's a lot of sincerity in the question, though I act like I'm joking.

He smiles and pulls me into a hug.

"Never."


	8. Sorry

Mark's POV

* * *

I never was going to leave him. He doesn't deserve to be deserted like that.

A few days have passed since we'd had our moment, where I promised I would never leave him. I got the feeling that he was keeping something from me. I'm really bad at boundaries sometimes, especially when I really care about the person in question. He was worrying me.

"Jack, can you please tell me what's bothering you so much?"

"A fuckin' lot is, that's what." He gives a heavy sigh. "It's way too much to explain in one sitting, and you're probably busy, or just don't give two shits."

"If I didn't give a shit, I wouldn't be asking you about it."

He shuts his eyes and swallows hard. "Just.. some of it would completely change everything. You'd hate me."

"I haven't so far, have I?" I smile reassuringly. "Fire away."

Jack furrows his brow and bites his lip, but after a moment he obliges.

"Well, based on the notes you know my real name's Sean by now, I'd guess. I started hiding under the name Jack when I came to America and started living here, cause it decreases chances of Andrew finding me and whatnot. He doesn't even know what country I fled to, but I definitely wasn't about to take my chances." He pauses to take a deep breath. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone, but I trust you, and I don't think you're gonna go around running yer mouth, are ya?"

I shake my head, not really surprised by his reasoning. I'd inferred that earlier but figured he'd tell me when he felt comfortable. "Why trust me?"

"There's a lot that goes into that and that's the frustrating part."

"Jack, or Sean, or whatever you want to be called... you can't just keep everything from me. This is part of making you better."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack stiffens as if preparing to deliver bad news. "Well, you've been taking care of me and we've been friends for a long time, right? I guess somewhere along the friendship I just fell into love. And I probably just destroyed my happiness by telling you but you fuckin' asked."

Dead silence for a few minutes. My head is a whirlwind. Too many emotions and conflicting thoughts. I'm not really sure how I feel.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go." He grabs his hat and jacket and leaves before I can react, somewhat slamming the door behind him.

"Jack, wait!" I try to yell after him. I go to the door as quickly as I can, but he's already gone.

So the search begins, I guess.

 

Jack's POV

* * *

 Shouldn'ta fuckin' done it. I knew better. I told myself not to do it. I yell at myself internally as I throw my hat and jacket on, walking briskly to get as far away as possible.

We can never be friends again. Nothing is right. Nothing is the same. Everything is different and I already loathe it.

He just let me go. Didn't have anything to say to me. That pretty much sums up how he feels about it, I'd think. No point in turning back for more. He'll just slam me with insults or hate.

Or worse, spiteful silence.

I pull a cigarette out of my coat pocket and light it, choking back tears. Might as well kill my lungs the way I do my friendships.

After a few minutes, I throw my cigarette on the ground and crush it under my shoe. I scowl to myself at all the happy people surrounding me. After 20 or so more minutes of walking, I stumble into a bar.

I down shot after shot until I'm kicked out. Seems pretty fast, but as I dazedly look at my watch, I see it's 9:26. I'd left my apartment around 6:15. I'm dizzy, so it takes me quite a bit to gather myself enough to pay and leave the bar.

I make it back to my apartment around 10:40. I don't really remember much of what had happened, but more than an hour to get back... Jesus. My apartment is only 25 minutes from the bar. Though I'm so hammered I'm surprised I made it back at all.

Mark left my apartment unlocked. Convenient. I didn't feel like shuffling through the whole key game. Though unlocked, my apartment was empty. I'm glad he doesn't have to see this.

I throw open my liquor cabinet and take a couple swigs from the bottle of vodka I keep in there for these special occasions of pure fucking misery. I wasn't legally allowed to get as hammered as I needed to be at that bar, so this should do nicely.

It takes me a couple minutes to get from there to my closet, where I open the box and pull out two things: a knife and my suicide note. Gun would be too brutal on Mark.

I smile wickedly as I stab myself. Good hit. I feel myself losing consciousness, suicide note in one hand, knife in the other.

Right as I fade away, I see Mark standing in the doorway, with an expression of utter horror, hair a mess, tear-streaked cheeks.

Sorry, love. 


	9. I Love You

Mark's POV

* * *

 I couldn't believe what I had found. 

I've been beating myself up about how I should've been there for Jack ever since it happened. The memory replays in my mind.

_"Jack? Baby, please talk to me." I kneel on the floor next to him, sobbing as I wait for the ambulance. I'd called it as soon as his eyes had closed, since he had gone unresponsive._

_I sit in silence next to him for a few minutes, in utter disbelief. It's all my fault, isn't it? I'd caused him all this hurt. Oh, my God._

_After a moment, I take the note from his hand. I can hear the medics showing up at the door, but I block them out of my mind._

> _To those who give a shit... aka, nobody._
> 
> _As you can clearly see I've decided to put an end to my life of misery. The reasons should be obvious enough if you know jack shit about me. Even after death I can make puns about my name._
> 
> _There are a number of possibilities about why I decided to do this now. Most likely, I fucked up and fell in love again, with the wrong person. That seems to happen to me a lot. Guess I just have poor instincts with this kind of thing._
> 
> _I'm sorry to whoever I might be hurting. And ma, I'm sorry for disappointing you. I can't be your legacy, I can't be the son you're proud of._
> 
> _I'll see you soon._
> 
> _Mark, I love you._

_The last words make me feel nothing but guilt. I tuck the letter into my pocket and catch the medics before they carry Jack out._

_I kiss him gently on the forehead. "Stay strong for me, I'll be there when you wake up."_

It's been 16 hours. I've been sitting by his side the whole time, minus having to use the bathroom. I had a friend bring me food, and I ate with him. Like a fucked up kind of date.

I'm beginning to lose hope. I press my head into his chest and start mumbling sweet nothings to him. I can feel him breathing and I can hear his heartbeat, so those are both good signs.

I don't remember falling asleep but I wake up instantaneously to him beginning to stir. I feel like I just got hit by a train of happy emotions.

"Jack, Sean, thank God, I don't know what..." I begin to sob, pressing my face into his neck. He weakly lifts an arm and rubs my back.

"Sorry."

"That's all you have to say?"

"No, but it's all I got the strength for." I realize this is true. He's probably still fuzzy.

Before I can stop myself I find myself kissing him, wrapping my hands around his jaw and holding back a bit in an attempt to be gentle. I can immediately feel him kissing back with a subtle feel of longing.

I gradually pull back, mumbling, "Calm down, honey, you're hurting. I can feel it."

He sighs but lays back. I can't even fully express how relieved I am to see him alive, especially after being out for so long. I've been growing majorly worried.

"Why'd you do it?" I sigh, waiting for him to say it was because I'd hurt him.

"Too many emotions, I couldn't handle it well at all." I knew it.

I take his hand and squeeze it, looking him in the eyes. "Please don't do it again."

"That's what ya said last time, look at us now-"

"I love you."

Jack pauses, slightly surprised. "I love you too."

A few moments following that, I'm kicked out by the nurses.


	10. Before I Go

Jack's POV

* * *

I've fucked up bad.

If I don't make it through this it's going to completely destroy Mark. I don't think I've ever cared about anyone this much since my mom. I've just been a selfish ass and he doesn't deserve it.

The thought of him being unhappy without me hurts more than death will.

"Mark."

"Yeah?" He still hadn't left my bedside except to shower and use the bathroom, and that's because it was necessary. The guy has heart.

"Can you just start talking to me?" I can feel myself getting weak. For the first time, I don't want to die. I don't want to tell him yet.

"About?"

"Anything. Somethin' you love."

Mark looks a bit suspicious but does as I ask. I know he isn't going to complain.

"Well, I'll talk about you. I love you, Jack. I love the way your smile isn't just at your lips, but across your entire face. Especially in your eyes." I can see his eyes glazing over as he's lost in his own little world. "I love the color of your eyes, it's so deep. There are many different colors that I can see depending on the lighting. The color of the sky on a rainy day, the color of a bluebird, the color of sapphire. I'm just a sucker for blue eyes."

He pauses, closing his eyes and feeling the moment.

"I love the way you can pull off green hair better than anyone else I know. I love how you can just joke about yourself, how you're Irish and hid your pot of gold. It's cute. You're such a unique and special person, and I just love you so fucking much."

I take a deep breath, fighting to avoid slipping out of consciousness.

"I'd love for you to spend your life with me, Jack. I'd love to make you happy for the rest of your days." He finishes with that.

"You already have." I smile at him, swallowing back tears from the feeling of his words.

He immediately understands.

 

Mark's POV

* * *

Oh, no.

Oh, God, no.

"No. No, no no no." I can feel myself growing frantic. "Should I get the-"

"Don't get the nurses. Please. It's too late, love." I don't want it to be too late. We were just getting happy. He was finally happy. Finally had hope of a better future.

I'd been kneeling at his bedside the whole time and now I press my face into his neck. Both of us are crying messes.

"Mark, you made me so happy. Happier than I'd ever been. If I'd known this was going to happen I wouldn't've-"

"Please don't talk like that. Like you're already gone. You're here."

Jack kissed my forehead and I can feel the moisture on his face. Without looking up, I wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him closer, as close as we can get without causing him pain.

I want to say so much and I can't find the words to do so. I never can, I'm so fucking dumb. The love of my life is dying and here I am, sitting in silence, acting like a blubbering idiot. So I don't say anything, at least not for the moment. I appreciate his warmth and closeness while I can, knowing it isn't going to last forever.

I shouldn't have taken him for granted. I feel so damn guilty.

"Mark, calm down."

"W.. what?"

"You've been mumbling in my neck about how much you love me for a few straight minutes. Breathe."

I hadn't even noticed I'd been doing it. Apparently, I consciously can't find the words to say, but deep down they're there.

I pull back for a second to look him in the eyes. God, those beautiful eyes. The first thing you fall in love with. 

They're fluttering closed. His breathing is shallower than it was before.

I force back a sob. "I'm so sorry..." I have to stop there; if I say anything else, the cry will break loose.

"Don't, Mark. I love you. I love you so..." Jack coughs, then smiles painfully at me. "So much."

"I love you too, Jack."

Dead silence. I quickly break it with a shaky sob.

I kiss his cheek one more time before I go. I get up, then change my mind momentarily and turn back around, leaning down to kiss his forehead. I whisper the same words again.

"I love you too."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for ending it like this but this is kinda how I had it planned out !! Reading the comments on the last chapter before writing this one broke me so I decided not to respond to them...  
> I'll be writing happier fics in the future. This just helped me vent emotionally.  
> I appreciate all the support, thank you so much ((: I cried a lot ending it, so don't shed too many tears!!


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